Steven’s mouth opened but nothing came out. At his house alone, there was one of each. Maggie had been part of the family for years and Julia was quite attached to the orange tabby she had brought with her from California. He hadn’t anticipated this being a sticking point. What kind of person would suggest forcing people to starve their beloved pets?
“I realize that makes me sound like a monster, Steven. You really should work on your poker face.” Natalie stood and walked toward him. Her grace and beauty were on display tonight, as if she had expected to be on stage. And of course, she had.
“What are you suggesting?” He pushed the words through clenched teeth.
“Not what you might think. Now pull that stick out of your backside.”
The lovely smile charmed the room, and the remark evoked a wave of snorts and snickers. She had an effect on people. Was it because she was truly that charming, or did people agree with her assessment of him? Either way, the woman was movie star stunning now that she had put some meat on her bones, and she possessed the poise and self-confidence typical of those used to being in front of a camera.
“What I’m proposing is that people may keep their furry companions, but if they do, they must feed them from their own rations. They should not receive extra unless the animals benefit the community, ergo pigs. Cattle and horses too, if we ever manage to capture any.”
He saw Pablo’s eyes narrow. Pressure to obtain livestock had intensified. Everyone craved the milk and cheese cows would provide, and horses would be needed when they could no longer find viable gasoline. Pablo crossed his arms, refusing to take the bait. Good for him. Steven remembered there were several pets in the young man’s household, and the expression on the intelligent face told him Natalie had just gained an enemy.
She continued, “It’s just common sense. Yes, we’re not starving but who knows what the future holds? What if the greenhouse fails? What if provisions can no longer be procured? The food we’re allocating for these animals might be what saves our lives at some point. What’s more important, people or dogs and cats?”
“Dogs are people,” Pablo said. “They’re better people than some people I know.”
Natalie deflected the barb with a musical laugh. “You’re probably right about that. However, there is still inequality in the allocation system. People who don’t have pets are getting cheated. It’s not fair.”
More than half the crowd murmured in agreement.
“What a bitch,” Maddie said, making no effort to whisper.
“You’ve made your point, Natalie. We’ll vote on this later. Marilyn, please make a note.”
All eyes watched the graceful departure from center stage, back to her seat next to a tall, middle-aged man with intense eyes and a dark, neatly-trimmed beard. Liberty’s newest citizen was a Baptist minister who claimed to have a degree in pharmacology; his alleged medicinal knowledge was the reason he had been allowed to stay. His claim hadn’t been put to the test, but Steven decided he would make it a priority.
“Next up is the hospital,” Marilyn said, drawing attention back to the meeting.
“Right. People, we have a situation. Nothing too grim but it needs to be addressed.” He took the next five minutes to describe the measles outbreak, which had spread to a second person: a child who’d been too young to be inoculated prior to Chicxulub.
“They’re both stable for now,” Cate said from the back of the room. No one sat near her. “But if anyone is holding out on antibiotics, now would be the time share.”
“I didn’t think they worked on measles.” Chuck, the former security crew leader, stood next to his son, who outweighed him by fifty pounds. The boy was Jeffrey’s age but could have been a defensive lineman for Kansas State. Chuck usually left the boy at home, and now Steven remembered why. He had been diagnosed as bipolar, and along with antibiotics and every other useful medicine, antipsychotic drugs were no longer available at the local Super Value Pharmacy.
“Of course antibiotics don’t cure measles. They stave off secondary bacterial infections, like pneumonia,” Cate said as if speaking to a child.
Steven didn’t offer a comment, even though all eyes looked at him. He had donated half his Fish-Mox and Fish-Flex to the hospital. The medicines, marketed to aquarium owners, were identical to the Amoxicillin and Cephalexin prescribed for humans. The only difference was in the packaging and their over-the-counter ease of purchase. He had stocked up before the end, and he would not part with any more. Someday his son or his sister might have need of them.
Yes, I’m the prepper. I’m the ant. And I’ve given you people all you’re going to get from me.
Cate continued, “We have some antibiotics, but they’re too valuable to use as a preventative. We’ll keep them for life or death situations. Do you agree with that, Steven?”
There was the amused smile again. He thought about his conversation with Natalie. The woman’s inexplicable weight and strange hand-hovering behavior should be addressed, but how?
“I agree. In addition to the vitamins we discussed earlier, what else should the HG crew be on the lookout for?”
“You mean besides condoms?” Cate barked a laugh, eliciting a few chuckles throughout the room. “We have a minor STD case. One that antibiotics won’t cure anyway.” She kept her eyes carefully on Steven. He was grateful she didn’t pinpoint the patient with a glance. “But it brings up the issue of those STDs that, if left untreated, can be serious. Chlamydia, gonorrhea, syphilis. People, if you’re going to have sex, wear a damn condom. We have a few boxes at the hospital, but not many, so also use restraint. This applies to everyone, not just the horny teenagers. It will be difficult enough treating people for injuries and ailments – STDs are preventable. I’m surprised that I even have to bring this up.”
Steven felt blood rushing to his cheeks and was thankful for the low light.
“We have some,” Maddie said. “We’ll be happy to donate them. Don’t worry, Pablo. You’ll still get laid.”
The young man was visibly embarrassed by the eruption of laughter.
“Thanks, Maddie,” Steven said with a grin. “I’m sure everyone appreciates your generosity.”
“Everyone except Pablo!” The remark brought another round of laughter.
“Back to business, people. At this rate we’ll be here all night. Cate, any other hospital or medical issues?”
The stout woman shook her head.
“Next up, Marilyn?”
“Dani would like to say a few words.”
Steven found the young woman in the crowd again. Her boyfriend Sam sat next to her along with a few members of the security crew. He assumed the rest of her staff were at their posts. He locked eyes with her and nodded, receiving a nod in return. Like Natalie, she moved with confident, fluid grace to the center of the room, but her movements seemed to deflect attention rather than demand it...a sinewy shadow cast in a darkened room. Steven thought of midnight assassins.
“We need more recruits,” Dani said abruptly. “You people want to snooze soundly at night? Give me more bodies. Armed guards are posted at all four checkpoints twenty-four seven. We have someone monitoring the cameras at all times. That barely leaves eight hours for sleep, let alone fortifying the perimeters. Which reminds me, Steven, we need some of your construction people. I have ideas for turning this town into fucking Fort Knox.”
“We can spare a couple, but we’re working on windmills and wells now. Plus, if we ever want to get the power back on, I’ll need workers for that.”
“What’s more important, lightbulbs or not getting your throat sliced in the middle of the night?”
“That’s a bit disingenuous, but I see your point. I’ll take a look at the labor situation and see what can be done.”
She studied him with crossed arms and a tilted head. He could see she had found his answer inadequate.
Dani turned her back on him and spoke directly to the residents of Liberty. “So who wants to be one of the cool ki
ds? Our team gets state-of-the-art weaponry and top-notch ninja training from Sam.”
Two female arms shot up, and at least four belonging to men who were building windmills and digging wells – Steven’s laborers.
Goddamn it. I need those guys.
“Look Dani, we can’t take all these people away from their existing jobs. What’s the minimum number you need? Be reasonable.”
The predatory smile was back. He had his hands full keeping her in line, but there was no doubt their town was safer because of her. How old was this ferocious young woman? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? How many years ago had Julia given up her baby? Should he mention the resemblance to his sister? What would be gained? More importantly, how might that knowledge create problems within the community?
“A reasonable number is six. A scarcely adequate number is four. A number that will exponentially diminish our chances of keeping our throats intact would be the two you mentioned.”
“How about four part-timers? You mainly need checkpoint sentries, correct? You people who are interested, would you be willing to work two part-time jobs instead of one full-time job? That might mean some twelve-hour days.”
Sam appeared at her side. According to Julia, his effect on most women was like sunshine on a pat of butter.
“Like Dani mentioned, our people get cool weapons and training in Krav Maga and Russian Systema, with a little Jiu Jitsu thrown in,” Sam said to the room. “It’s a system of fighting I came up with over the last year. Dani and I have worked really hard on it. I don’t want to draw too pretty of a painting here – recruits need to be in good shape and able to handle pain. It’s very physical. You won’t make it if you can’t take some punches and falls.” The slow smile softened the words. Several females in the crowd bit their lips suddenly, and there was a steely glint in the eyes of the men who had also raised their hands.
He’s working the crowd. Using his sex appeal on the females and a macho challenge to the men. Steven decided he might have underestimated the Sam half of the dynamic duo. Together these two young people could take over the world.
He might need to keep a closer eye on both of them.
“If you’re interested in part-time work for the security crew, talk to Dani and Sam after the meeting. Agreed, Dani? Four part-timers?”
He acknowledged the young woman’s curt nod, then Steven had the floor to himself again.
“Marilyn, what’s next?”
“The gasoline conundrum.”
“Oh yes. So the hunter-gatherers believe that finding good gas should be the fuel crew’s job, yet the fuel crew’s allocation of gasoline is just adequate for getting them back and forth to the wooded lot west of town, plus what they need for their chain saws. So the fuel crew should either be given extra gasoline so they can go find more gasoline, or the task of finding more gasoline should be included in the HG crew’s regular supply forays rather than separate expeditions, which means less time looking for food. Do I have that correct?”
“That’s it.” Marilyn’s smile was just for Steven, and it was a doozy. In the flattering lamplight, she was downright pretty. The brilliant mind behind the smile made her, in Steven’s opinion, just about the sexiest woman in town. He felt the color rise in his cheeks again.
“We’d just as soon let those guys do it.” The fuel crew’s leader looked like the quintessential lumberjack he actually was. He never removed his black beanie, even in the body-heated room, and his biceps threatened to burst through the red-checked flannel at the slightest exertion.
“We’re not great at knowing where to look for stuff,” the man continued in a slow voice that resonated like a bass violin. “We know how to cut down trees and turn ‘em into heat for y’all’s homes. That’s what we do. But wandering around looking for gasoline just don’t seem like it should be our job.”
Finding, chopping, and delivering firewood wasn’t something that required Steven’s intellect, so his conversations with the man had been few. He knew little about the gentle giant other than his name and that he was from Arkansas.
“Billy Ray, I tend to agree with you. What do you say, Pablo? You guys are out there anyway.” Steven swooped his arm in a vague gesture indicating the world beyond Liberty, Kansas.
Pablo sighed. Maddie snickered beside him. “He’ll do it, but he won’t be happy about it. Sucking gas is just about the worst thing you can ask Pablo to do, other than telling him to use a double negative or end a sentence with an open preposition.”
Everyone who knew Pablo even superficially laughed at his expense.
“Why do I feel that I have a target on my back tonight?” he said with a grin. “Fine. We’ll do what we can.”
“Can’t ask more than that.” Steven smiled at the young man who’d been building quite a favorable reputation, not just for the successful forays, but for the storytelling sessions he and Maddie hosted. With the help of Amelia, the Native American woman with the quick smile and wise eyes, those events were the hottest ticket in town. Two nights every week they opened their home to anyone interested in stories and poetry. He hadn’t been to one yet, but he decided to make the effort soon.
He studied Pablo and his firecracker girlfriend with affection. These were the kind of people Liberty needed.
“Next up, Marilyn?”
“The sanitation situation.”
Steven rolled his eyes. “Oh yes. It seems some people are still inclined to...um...go outside. I understand that it’s not always convenient to find a toilet or carry flushing water for said toilet, but the last thing we want is an outbreak of giardia or cholera. Now that we’re using well water instead of lake water, we must be vigilant about our waste. You people that have septic tanks are fortunate. You won’t have to worry about the main sewer lines backing up. Everyone else, it doesn’t seem to be a problem yet, but if it becomes one, you may have to move into a home that has a septic system. We have Frank monitoring the situation, and he’ll tell us if that time comes. Right, Frank?” He spoke to a short man with thick Clark Kent glasses. As a former manager at Wichita’s largest wastewater facility, his job assignment had been a no-brainer.
The man nodded.
“Are we all in agreement about pooping and peeing inside?”
It was absurd that the issue even needed to be addressed, but when he noticed Logan sitting next to his sister, he remembered for the hundredth time that some of the residents of his town were ‘special needs.’ At that moment, he decided to delay Julia’s explosive revelation until the next meeting. He knew withholding the information bordered on duplicity, but the machinery of civilization had been chugging along so well; he wouldn’t throw a cog in the gears now. When everyone discovered there might be psychopaths in their midst, mayhem would ensue.
“Greenhouse,” Marilyn said when he glanced again in her direction.
“Lisa, how are we doing?” Steven asked the ponytailed dynamo in the second row. “I know people are getting hungry for some fresh produce. I certainly am.”
“We should have our first crop of baby carrots and radishes in two weeks. Then the kale and spinach. Everything is going well so far. We had to keep the fire burning last night on the boiler. The temp in the greenhouse was dipping too low for my peace of mind, so I made the call. Probably will have to do the same thing tonight. Other than tending the fire, there’s not much else to be done at the moment. We’re utilizing every inch of the interior space.”
Steven noticed there was no hardwood visible on the bench between Lisa and Ed. If the relationship had progressed to the point this detail implied, he was happy for his friend.
“Are you saying you’re overstaffed?”
“I’m hesitant to say yes, because I’ll need every able-bodied person I can get my hands on come spring. But for now, yes. I can spare a couple of my people for other jobs over the winter. Ed and I have worked up some plans for a second greenhouse, which we’ll need if the town keeps growing like it has been. Plus I’ve found a field for our first wheat c
rop. I rode along with Billy Ray yesterday. It’s close to the acreage where they’re getting our firewood. The area will be good for corn too, which needs a lot of space. Once the last chance of a freeze has passed, I want to cultivate the entire town square for spring planting...more vegetables and berries. Turns out, the soil is perfect. I won’t need to do much other than turn it over. When that time comes, I’ll be asking for more of those precious seeds, Steven, and my hired help back. Between our two seed banks and what we can gather from fallow fields, we’ll be able to grow just about everything we could want that works in the 5B hardiness zone. Which reminds me, I’m available for consultation on the victory gardens. People can come talk to me after the meeting. We can use the cold weather down time to start designing the layouts and getting the fence work done. Deer and rabbits will be a problem, so ten-foot fencing is recommended.”
It had been Lisa’s idea for everyone to start their own gardens, just as the British populace did during World War II. Steven knew a lot about gardening, but his knowledge paled in comparison to the woman’s horticultural expertise. Liberty was damn lucky to have her, and Jeffrey and his Springfield rifle were to thank.
“Marilyn, what’s next?”
The question had just been asked when one of the courtroom doors opened and a small dark-haired man with almond-shaped eyes emerged in the doorway.
“Good grief, Tung! Where the hell have you been?” Steven blurted out. A wave of relief washed over him. After the Hays mission, the man had disappeared. Nobody knew where he had gone, and everyone had suspected the worst.
“I needed to get away. Clear my head a bit. Sorry I didn’t leave a note or tell anyone.”
All heads swiveled to face the back of the court room. The warm glow of the kerosene lamps revealed neatly trimmed hair and clean clothes. Tung hadn’t been roughing it since his departure, but now was not the time for rapid-fire questions.
“Well, we’re glad you’re back. There’s been talk of some projects where your talents would be invaluable, specifically making fuel that will burn in our vehicles. Ethanol? Biodiesel? Grab a seat and we’ll get together later.”
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